


Perfect Harmony

by orphan_account



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Sexy Zone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuma finds himself enticed by a melody and his new class mate, not knowing he has met him before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Harmony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juliet418 (Mikakita)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Juliet418+%28Mikakita%29).



> I got this very detailed idea from MikaKita, and she allowed me to bring it to life, and beta read, so half of the credit goes to her!

“Fuma will be devastated” The pregnant woman mused, idly stroking over her belly as she watched her son play in the neighbor’s garden. “He is really attached to Kento.”

“I don’t even think Kento has understood it yet that we won’t be returning” the other mother was leaning over the fence. “I mean, we told him that his Daddy found a new job and that we need to leave Japan because of that, but he still talks like we are just going on a trip.”

“We will all miss you” Fuma’s mother sighed, pouting as she saw her 5-year-old running after his friend, laughing as he tried to catch up with him. “You have to promise to come visit from time to time!”

“I hope that it won’t be for long, to be honest” Kento’s mother huffed. “I mean, living in New York sounds nice, but I don’t even know proper English, and living in a foreign country scares me a little. But it might be good for Kento, who knows. Though I guess he will cry the moment he realizes he can’t go over to see Fuma.”

The other woman nodded and both fell silent to see Fuma catch up with Kento and wrestle him to the ground, both squealing in delight. 

Kento’s family moved out the day Fuma’s mother came home with the newborn Towa. It should have been a happy day, but instead, Fuma showed next to no interest for his baby brother, clinging to Kento’s side, unwilling to let go of him even for one second. 

When they drove away, Fuma stood in the garden and waved, but as soon as they were gone, he started crying, and was not to be stopped for the rest of the night. 

Despite all the promises, the contact between the families ceased after the moving day. Letters took long and were a poor excuse of contact for the kids. Since Fuma’s mother had her hands full with the baby she had no nerve to put any effort into it. Fuma had cried himself to sleep for a couple of weeks, but afterwards he seemed to forget about Kento, and she saw no need to remind him. 

Now, more than ten years later, Fuma could not remember his childhood friend, those days completely wiped from his mind, a child’s memory too fickle to last for that long. 

***

There was something refreshing about the first spring days and the warm sunlight they brought with them, Fuma thought distractedly as he looked out of the window, having given up all pretense of listening to their History teacher. He had always liked this time of the year, the cloudless skies and the smell of grass and flowers. It made him feel calm and happy. He hoped that the basketball club would train outside today, being tired of the stuffy air in the gym. 

He was relieved when the bell rang and everyone started packing their things, but took his time to pack up himself, knowing he would not be going home for another couple of hours anyways. 

“Fuma!” Juri called, leaning onto his table and looking down at him impatiently. “Come on, Hokuto and I are hungry!” 

“Sure sure!” Fuma sighed, lazily throwing his things into his bag, not bothering to properly close it as he swung it over his shoulder and followed his classmates outside. 

Hokuto had brought leftover cake from his mother’s birthday and they all knew that Fuma could never say no to sweets, so they all ended up sprawled on a table tennis table outside, enjoying the sunshine and talking animatedly, their opened books a poor pretense of homework activities. 

Juri was just telling a story about his older brother and the new girlfriend he had brought home when Fuma picked up on a melody, immediately distracted. He looked up to peak towards the opened window of the music room in the 4th floor, tuning out his friends’ voices as his thoughts were swept away by the piano notes, triggering something inside of him that he could not quite place. 

He had always been very receptive to music, a side effect of his father’s obsession with instruments, but that was not enough to explain the sudden, almost trance-like state he found himself in, his chest tightening with emotions he could not quite understand as he continued staring up at the open window. 

“Fuma!” Hokuto called, snapping his fingers in front of his face, making Fuma blink at the other boy. “Are you listening to me?!” 

“Um” Fuma said eloquently as he threw one more fleeting look at the window of the music room, because now a soft voice had begun singing along to the melody and he was not at all ready to be spoken to, and Juri laughed at the confusion in his face.

“Which girl has twisted your mind into knots like that?” he teased, poking him painfully into the cheek, making Fuma glare at him. “Admit it, it’s the basketball club manager, we know she has been flirting with you ever since you joined last year!”

“Shut up” Fuma groaned, rolling his eyes. “I told you a thousand times that I am not interested in her!”

“But she is cute” Juri pouted. Fuma ignored him, instead focusing back on the melody coming from the music room again. 

He did not even notice when Hokuto and Juri went back to talking, too busy trying to make out the voice that had started singing. It was a male voice, but it was soft and pleasant and Fuma found himself wishing he could hear it better, see the person it belonged to.

When Fuma jumped up his friends looked at him suspiciously, and he smiled once in embarrassment before murmuring something about toilet and sprinting back into the building. 

There was not much activity in the school at this hour, apart from the clubs that were settled in their assigned rooms. Fuma was glad to not bump into anyone as he made his way up the stairs, his steps only slowing when he reached the 4th floor and the music was getting clearer, droning through the halls softly, as if to lure him. 

By the time he was nearing the open door of the music room, he was tip toeing, careful not to be noticed as he was peeking inside. 

He spotted a boy sitting at the piano, school blazer dumped onto the bench next to him and the first couple of buttons of his shirt opened, tie loosened as he hummed to himself, caught up in the melody he was playing. 

Fuma froze as he stared at him, taking in his face, the way his dark hair stuck slightly to his forehead from the heat of the sun falling into the room, the lids of his dark round eyes occasionally falling closed as he got lost in the music. 

Fuma felt quite lost as well, unable to move as the melody and the voice washed over him, making him unable to breathe. 

He only woke from his trance as the boy accidentally hit a wrong note, frowning as he held in, and Fuma quickly ducked out of view, pressing himself against the wall next to the door, his heart racing, though he was not quite sure why. 

When the boy did not pick up the song again, instead scribbling something down into his notebook, Fuma quietly sneaked off, fleeing down the stairs again completely unnoticed. 

With a last look back towards the opened door, he realized that he knew the boy, if only from sight. He had joined their class as a transfer student a week ago for the start of the new school year, but he had turned out to be so silent and low-key that Fuma could not even recall his name. 

The melody he had played kept stuck in Fuma’s head, though, and when he joined Juri and Hokuto back on the school grounds, he realized that the boy had started playing again, the notes reaching him through the open window.

Fuma was unable to concentrate at all until it was time for club activities, and even then, his thoughts kept traveling back to the music and the boy. 

***

He was called Nakajima, Fuma found out over the next few days, and he had moved here from Osaka, which was apparently only the last station in a long list of relocations he had done since childhood due to his father’s career choices. He had heard some girls gushing about him having lived in America and France and speaking fluent English due to that. 

Nevertheless, Nakajima stayed quiet and distanced himself from everyone else in class, and Fuma wondered if it was down to the constant school transfers he had gone through over the years that he found it difficult to communicate with his class mates, or if he simply didn’t bother. He seemed popular enough with the girls, which did not surprise Fuma with his looks, and he was polite when addressed directly, but searching for a conversation did not seem to come easy to him. 

Fuma considered talking to him every now and then, but could not bring up the courage. It was unusual for him. He was generally sociable, had a lot of friends and talked to everyone willing to listen, but there was something about Nakajima that made him feel nervous and awkward. 

Maybe it was the fear of giving away how he continued passing by the music room after classes had ended, sometimes even when there were no club activities scheduled and he had no business in school for the afternoon other than getting a glimpse of him at the piano and listening to his music. 

The song Nakajima was working on seemed to become more advanced day by day, the piece growing as he progressed with it, and every now and then Fuma heard him sing along, though the lyrics seemed unfixed, changing whenever he heard them. 

It took a while until Fuma was ready to admit the reason for his obsession with Nakajima and his piano music to himself. It was hard to deny, honestly, he thought as he found himself hidden in some corner of the music room, having sneaked in here to wait for the other boy, knowing he came here every day when the room was not occupied by choir or band practice. And the way his heart started to beat faster as the door opened confirmed it. He could not keep his eyes off the lean figure of his class mate as he shrugged out of his blazer with a groan, walking over to the piano and opening the lid, stroking over the keys almost lovingly for a moment before sitting down and starting to play. He barely knew the guy, had never even talked to him, but as the soft melody filled his mind, making Fuma smile as he watched him, he was sure that he was in love with him. 

***

He felt a little pathetic as he kept listening to Nakajima secretly, unable to approach him but also unable to keep away, as if drawn to him by an invisible force that brought him back to the music room day by day.

He knew Nakajima’s song by heart now, and it would not let go of him even when he was at home. At some point, Fuma had brought out his guitar and had started recreating the melody, composing an accompaniment to the piano notes, and when he was done with that, lyrics. 

He wrote about Nakajima, about what he felt when he heard him play, and about his almost unhealthy obsession for the person himself. 

“Awesome, Nii-Chan!” his 4-year-old sister Mimu shouted one of these afternoons, when he was at home working on the song. He blinked, slowly waking up from his own world, and Mimu climbed onto the bed next to him, looking at her brother with big eyes. “Almost like Papa!”

That made Fuma snort, but he ruffled the little girl’s hair affectionately as he laid the guitar aside. 

“Is that a Christmas song?” she asked excitedly, knowing Fuma only really ever pulled out his guitar around this time of the year, when his father pestered him to play together for Christmas Eve (it was either that or playing Santa, and while there was a lot he would do for his family, he kindly left that joy to his grandfather). 

“No” Fuma said slowly, throwing a thoughtful look at the sheet of lyrics he had scribbled down. “It’s an original… for someone Nii-Chan really likes.”

“Ehhhh” Mimu murmured, demanding for him to play. He was glad to find out that at least his sister liked it. 

Then maybe, Nakajima would as well. 

***

Fuma had never been the type for secret admirations, not seeing the sense of growing feelings if you were never going to tell the person. So he had known that he would eventually confess to Nakajima from the moment he had realized what his feelings meant. 

That did not mean he was not freaked out when he stood in the doorway, guitar in hand, taking deep calming breaths as he watched Nakajima play. 

It was now or never, he told himself. He had finished the song weeks ago, and had been tip toeing around this moment ever since. It was time to pull through with it. 

Nakajima did not notice him until Fuma started playing, and even then he seemed to not understand it immediately, frowning a little as he continued the song before suddenly coming to a halt, looking up. 

Fuma stepped into the room, his fingers shaking a little as he tried to focus enough to brush the strings, but when he started singing, he was glad to find out that his voice was even, showing no trace of nerves. 

Nakajima just stared at him for a while, apparently too stunned to do anything, but when Fuma reached the first chorus, he turned back to the piano tentatively and started to play again.

Fuma felt ecstatic because this was how he had imagined it to be, their melodies harmonizing perfectly, fitting together just like puzzle pieces, and he could see Nakajima smiling by the time they came to an end. 

When the big brown eyes he had been so fascinated with for the last months finally met his, there was some light in them, some beautiful glimmer that made Fuma forget all the words he had laid himself out to say. 

Before he knew it, he was across the room. Nakajima’s dark hair felt silky and soft under his touch as he threaded his fingers through it, keeping his head in place to be able to press his lips to the other boy’s. 

Nakajima seemed frozen, and Fuma had exactly 2 seconds to marvel at the softness of his lips before he jerked under his touch. 

There was an uncoordinated fist to his temple, making Fuma stumble more out of surprise than pain, yelping as he let the guitar fall. 

He fuzzily stooped down to check if there was any damage to the instrument, and Nakajima stuttered: “Wh - what…?!”

“I am sorry!” Fuma called, keeping his head down, unable to look at him. His brain had definitely caught up with his actions, and now he felt _horrible_ , both for catching Nakajima off guard like this and because he was obviously going to be turned down. “I did not mean to… I just…” Fuma took a deep shaky breath, trying to remember what he had wanted to say originally, before he continued in a small voice: “I have watched you play for a long time, and… I like you. This is what I wanted to tell you. I am sorry for surprising you like this.”

He heard Nakajima gasp, but that was all the reaction he got as Fuma slowly got to his feet, feeling a little unsteady from the whirlwind of emotions inside of him. 

“I am sorry” he murmured again, his gaze still cast downwards and his fingers grabbing the guitar desperately. “Forget this happened.”

He almost stumbled in his haste to retreat, but he did not get very far, stopped by fingers closing around his wrist. He raised his eyes for the first time, surprised to find Nakajima this close. 

His face was flushed and somehow Fuma managed to find him cute even like this, and then he pushed close, his other hand cupping the back of his neck as he pulled him into another kiss.

This one lasted longer, Nakajima’s lips soft and gentle against his, and Fuma responded automatically, closing his eyes melting into it. 

When they finally parted, Fuma felt a little dizzy, and his free hand reached out to fist in the fabric of Nakajima’s dress shirt, though that might have been also a reflex to keep him close, he was not quite sure. 

“Don’t apologize, I was just… shocked” the other boy murmured, looking up at Fuma tentatively, eyes wide as if he was still not quite sure this was really happening. “I’ve been watching you from afar for so long and suddenly you are here, kissing me, and-”

“Wait, you-” Fuma murmured, blinking, and Nakajima cleared his throat in embarrassment. 

“The song was for you” he murmured, and Fuma gaped at him. “I know we never talked to each other, but I kind of liked you from the moment I saw you, and… I was too shy to say anything, though, because you are so popular with everyone, and-”

“We are so stupid” Fuma murmured, but he was grinning now, and it made Nakajima smile back tentatively. “If I had known that you liked me, I wouldn’t have needed to sneak by the music room for _months_.”

“Well, you never talked to me” Nakajima said defensively. “How was I supposed to know-”

“You never talk to _anyone_ ” Fuma shot back. “I had no idea how to approach you!”

“I… always had a hard time fitting in, no matter where we moved” the other said slowly, and Fuma could see the insecurity in his eyes. “Most people showed interest in me when I first transferred to their school, but let me fall afterwards, so I just… kind of stopped trying at some point.”

“How about me?” Fuma smiled, carefully placing his guitar on the floor before slinging both arms around Nakajima’s waist, pulling him close. “Am I worth trying?”

“Well… I am ready to find out” Nakajima chuckled, not protesting as Fuma pulled him into another kiss. 

***

He and Nakajima seemed to fit together naturally, Fuma was glad to find out. They kept talking for hours, the other boy as curious about Fuma’s life as Fuma was about his.

“There is no way you are going to move away again any time soon, though, right?” Fuma asked hesitantly, lazily stroking through Nakajima’s hair, who had moved to lie with his head in Fuma’s lap after a while, spread out over the empty mini stage they had settled on at the other end of the room. 

“Nope” he smiled, stretching a little. “My Mum put her foot down and said she wanted to return to Tokyo. She is gonna kill my father if he suggests another relocation.”

“Good” Fuma smiled. “Because I might not let you go again.”

Nakajima grinned, obviously liking those words, and leaned up slightly. Fuma got the message and met him halfway, pressing their lips together again. 

Juri and Hokuto frowned a little when Fuma introduced Nakajima as his boyfriend, but just shrugged and welcomed him into their circle of friends as if he had always been part of it. Fuma knew that Nakajima had never had close friends, not in the way Fuma was used to, but he seemed happy to have people calling out for him when he entered the class, finally fitting in somewhere like he had always wanted to. 

Just as Nakajima had started to grow comfortable around Fuma and the others, though, summer holidays started. Fuma was glad about that because for him it meant mostly free time, apart from club activities a couple of weeks. His face fell a little when Nakajima told him that he had accepted a summer internship at his father’s company, though. 

“We agreed on this before we got together” he explained with a sigh. “I thought I would be free for most of the summer holidays anyways since I don’t know anyone in Tokyo, and… sorry” he said ruefully, making Fuma roll his eyes as he rested his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“It’s not your fault, I was just kind of looking forward to spending more time outside of school with you” he murmured. “But well, it can’t be helped.”

“We still have the weekends” Nakajima reminded him. “And the internship is only 4 weeks, so for the last 2 weeks I have nothing planned.”

“How about we go on a trip then?” Fuma suggested with a grin. “The beach or something. Just a few days.”

“Sounds good, and I should have enough money after the internship” Nakajima nodded, making Fuma frown at the mention of money. His last savings had gone to some video game, leaving him almost broke for the rest of the month. 

“I will find a mini job for the summer” he frowned, making Nakajima grin at his determination. “It shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Okay” Nakajima nodded, leaning in to connect their lips again to seal the promise, and Fuma smiled into the kiss. 

Finding a summer job was not as easy as Fuma had originally thought (though Juri’s brother had kindly informed him that they were searching for a bartender at the nightclub he was working in, only shrugging at Juri’s lazy input that Fuma was not yet legal - “What, he looks like 20, the girls would totally dig him!”), but eventually his uncle agreed to let him help out in his guitar shop a few times a week. He was not paid much for it, but if Fuma succeeded in fighting off Juri and Hokuto trying to drag him to karaoke, it would be enough for a small trip with Nakajima. 

He had given his mother a flimsy excuse of having plans with some guys from his class while searching for a job, not yet comfortable with sharing the details of his relationship with his family, but he was slowly getting there. Each mail Fuma exchanged with Nakajima throughout the week and each phone conversation they had at night, cuddled into bed after a long day, brought them closer in their relationship despite the physical distance. Also, it made their weekend dates even more special, the afternoons spent together shopping or making out in a small karaoke booth totally worth the hundreds of guitars he kept tuning at his uncle’s shop. 

He had almost made up his mind to break the news to his family when his mother surprised him by informing him they would have visitors over next saturday.

“Who?” Fuma frowned, trying to wiggle out of Mimu’s grip as she tried to pull off his leather wristband, inwardly pouting at the thought of one of their rare weekend dates having to be cancelled because of it. 

“Do you still remember Kento-Kun’s family? They used to live next door when you were 5 years-old” she grinned. 

“Um… Kento?” he repeated, the name triggering something inside of him, though he could not quite place it. “I don’t think I remember?”

“He was your best friend” his mother pursed her lips. “You cried for _weeks_ after they had moved to America.”

“Hm” Fuma only made, catching Mimu and holding her still, making her giggle. 

“Anyways, I met his mother by chance at the supermarket. It turns out they are back in Tokyo now, so I invited them over.”

Fuma nodded, trying hard to recall a face or anything, not really managing it. 

“I am curious how Kento-Kun looks like now” she smiled, looking at Fuma as if gauging from her sons appearance. “He was a very sweet boy, I bet he turned out to be a total gentlemen. Not like all Kikuchi men.”

Fuma stuck out his tongue at her, knowing she was only teasing, and started tickling Mimu as she tried to break free from his grip, making her scream. 

***

Fuma began to remember a little about Kento as soon as he was shown some pictures, but it was only flashes and bits, and he was still a little unhappy to give up a free day with Nakajima to meet that guy he could barely remember. For all he knew, he could be a complete jackass. 

“Sorry” Fuma sighed as he explained the situation to his boyfriend. 

“It’s okay” Nakajima chuckled darkly. “Actually, it fits pretty well, my Mum keeps pestering me about this Saturday, too, telling me she has some _surprise_ for me or something. I have been trying to wiggle out of it, but I guess now I can go along with whatever she has planned and get her off my back.”

“But hey, good news, next weekend we should be able to go for our trip!” Fuma said excitedly. “I have the money together, more or less, so let’s already contact the guest house and confirm the room reservation.”

“Okay” Nakajima agreed. “I still need to tell my parents. They will freak if I tell them I will go on a trip with a friend. That has never happened before. They were already worried if all the school transfers made me socially incompetent or something.”

“Friend?” Fuma repeated, pouting a little, and Nakajima sighed. 

“I am not quite sure how to tell them” he murmured nervously. “I mean, my parents are technically open-minded after having moved around the world so much, but my Mum keeps talking about her future grandchildren and I feel bad for taking that image away from her by telling her I am into guys.”

“Hm” Fuma nodded, understanding that all too well. “I’m not rushing you. Take your time.”

“Did you tell your family?” he enquired.

“Not yet” Fuma admitted. “But I was going to sometime soon. My Mum keeps gossiping with Hokuto’s Mum, and she will come to know that it’s not him and Juri I am going on a trip with eventually.”

“Oh” Nakajima just said, and Fuma sighed.

“You should come over sometime” he suggested. “So I can introduce you, so we won’t need to sneak into karaoke booths for privacy anymore.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that after the trip” Nakajima mused, making Fuma smile. 

“Please” he stressed, glad to hear his boyfriend chuckle on the other end of the line.

***

“Fuma, they are here!” Fuma’s mother called from downstairs Saturday afternoon, and Fuma sighed as he turned off his PSP and got up from the bed with a groan. 

He could hear voices from the garden, so he took a quick look out of the window on the way out, freezing in his movements when he saw the small group outside. 

His parents were talking with a couple their age, but his attention was caught immediately by the boy his age cowering on eye level with his sister, smiling as she showed him some flowers in the garden. 

He knew the soft smile and those warm brown eyes all too well, making him sprint down the stairs and out into the garden.

“NAKAJIMA!” he called breathlessly as he came to a halt, making everyone turn to Fuma, but he only had eyes for his boyfriend, who was blinking at him in confusion. 

“Kikuchi” he murmured, adding slowly in realization: “Kikuchi _Fuma_. Of course!”

“You know each other?” Fuma’s mother asked, clearly pleased, and Fuma smirked sheepishly as he explained that they were in one class together, hoping that it would be enough of an explanation for now. 

Their mothers had a field day with this information, gushing about the coincidences and the smallness of the world, but Fuma was too busy exchanging secret smiles with his boyfriend and suppressing his stupid grin. 

The night was spent with old childhood stories told by their parents, the next one more embarrassing than the last, but Fuma did not mind much because Kento seemed relaxed and was laughing a lot and his eyes were shining beautifully. 

He seized the first opportunity he got, with their mothers chatting in the kitchen after dinner and their fathers discussing the baseball championship, silently grabbing Kento’s arm and pulling him out of the living room and up the stairs. 

Kento let out a small chuckle when the door closed behind them, making Fuma turn to him with raised eyebrows. 

“Can you believe this?!” Kento blurted out, his voice laced with little giggles. “This is almost like fate!”

Fuma blushed a little at that, murmuring for him to shut up as he pulled Kento against him, connecting their lips to silence him. 

Their kiss was soft and slow and Fuma felt a little giddy as well, the experience of having his boyfriend in his room a little surreal after all this weeks, no, _months_ of imagining it. 

They somehow managed to miss the soft knock on the door, to caught up in each other, and Fuma’s mother did not wait to push it open and call for her son, both mothers freezing in their movements as Kento and Fuma jumped apart a tiny bit too late.

There was an awkward silence before Fuma’s mother grinned, stepping back. 

“I guess we wait until you’re done _showing Kento-Kun your room”_ she teased as she closed the door behind herself, making Fuma groan in embarrassment. 

“Well, so much for telling my parents” Kento said slowly. “That’s one way to do it. Saves me some trouble.”

Fuma glared at him half-heartedly, but he could not keep the smile off his lips when Kento started laughing at him. 

***

“Yes, Mum, we have a locker to keep our things in” Kento groaned into the phone, making Fuma grin as he unpacked his bag. “No one will steal our stuff. This is not like cheap American motels, okay?! We are in Japan!”

His mother seemed to want to discuss some more, though, and when Kento finally managed to hang up, he let himself fall onto the bed with a sigh, resting his head on the T-Shirts Fuma had just wanted to put away. 

“I knew that she would freak, she doesn’t trust me one bit” he complained, making Fuma laugh.

“You are a spoiled only child that has never traveled anywhere alone” Fuma teased, poking him so he would move his head to give him access to his clothes. “Of course she would freak.”

“Hey, I survived in various places without any problems” Kento pouted, crossing his arms. 

“By becoming invisible like you did when you transferred to our school?” Fuma shot back, dodging the pillow Kento threw at him. “It’s okay, I will watch out that you won’t get kidnapped or anything. I promised your Mum.”

Kento rolled his eyes, but could not help but smile when Fuma kneeled onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of Kento’s hips. 

“Stop pouting, I want to go swimming!” Fuma demanded, leaning down to nuzzle Kento’s neck with his nose, making him squirm. 

The beach was crowded, as was to be expected during the summer holidays, but they had their fun anyways, Fuma feeling energetic whenever he saw water and Kento being swept along by it. 

When Fuma returned to their room from his shower, Kento had napped off on the bed from the exhaustion, his phone still in hand, and Fuma did not have the heart to wake him. 

He went out to grab some take out for both of them from the Hotto Motto down the street by himself, and when he entered the room again Kento stirred, blinking at him sleepily. 

“Dinner!” Fuma announced obnoxiously, dropping the plastic back right onto Kento’s stomach, making him whine and press his face into the pillow. “No more sleeping, we went through all this trouble to be able to go on this trip and you just nap off on me!” Fuma pouted, poking Kento’s rip until he retaliated, sitting up with a sigh. “Why are you so tired, by the way?!” 

“I barely slept last night” Kento murmured, seeming more awake once he took note of the tonkatsu bento Fuma had brought. “I was too nervous.”

“You” Fuma rolled his eyes, but smiled a little as he dug in as well.

They ended up watching a movie together on Fuma’s laptop after dinner, some American thing Kento had insisted Fuma _had_ to watch, but cuddled up comfortably against Kento, his arm slung around his waist, he found it straining to pay attention to the subtitles. 

When he slowly started kissing Kento’s neck, Kento only shuddered, apparently trying to ignore him, which proved to be impossible as soon as Fuma brought out his tongue to taste his boyfriend’s skin. 

“You’re not paying attention to the movie!” Kento complained by the time Fuma was outright sucking on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, but his voice was breathless, telling Fuma that he didn’t really mind. 

“You’re more interesting than the movie” Fuma stated simply, his breath hitting Kento’s damp skin, making him shudder. “Besides, I have been waiting to be alone with you like this for _weeks_. I couldn’t care less about the movie.”

“Should have known” Kento sighed, leaning forward to close the laptop, apparently not caring enough to stop the movie or shut it down completely before turning in Fuma’s arms and finding his lips.

Kento’s kiss was deep and hungry, making Fuma’s head spin, and his fingers found Kento’s hair, fisting it in a desperate attempt to try to pull him even closer, to keep him from bringing only the tiniest distance between them. 

Kento’s skin was hot under his touch when Fuma’s free hand slipped under the fabric of his shirt, and Kento was responsive, squirming and moaning softly into their kiss even though he barely brushed his fingers against him. 

Kento’s hands soon began to wander as well, first above the fabric and then underneath, tracing his well-toned chest and stomach with an impatience that was endearing and arousing at the same time, urging Fuma to finally break the kiss to pull his own shirt over his head. Kento did not protest when Fuma attacked his clothes next, and his hair was tousled when he dropped his shirt to floor, making Fuma laugh and smooth it with his palms. 

Kento pulled him into another kiss, and both of them moaned when Fuma lowered himself onto his body, now skin on skin. 

There was no finesse in their movements - after all, they were both inexperienced teenager, more eager than skilled - but Fuma and Kento had always fitted together perfectly, even as kids, synchronizing was like second nature to them, and so they made it work. And Fuma couldn’t care less about Kento accidentally kicking him as they tried to get him out of his pants, because when he pushed their hips together, their length rubbing against each other just the right way, it was perfect. 

“Fuma” Kento murmured breathlessly, and it went through Fuma like a flash of electricity, his name in that breathy tone from his boyfriend. It moved him to bring a hand between them and take both of their erections at once, stroking them off together, making both of them moan loudly. 

Kento pulled Fuma down to connect their lips again, and they kissed messily as they reached their highs together. 

Kento’s embrace felt grounding as Fuma slowly came back to himself, and he nuzzled the skin of Kento’s neck with his nose, smiling as the other shivered at the touch. 

They stayed like this for a while longer, unwilling to move, and Fuma had almost drifted off when he realized Kento was softly humming to him. A grin broke out over his face as he realized that it was _their_ song, and joined in, singing the lyrics he had written in a quiet voice, making Kento hug him tighter. 

Even without the piano, their voices croaked and the tunes off, it was perfect to Fuma, and he decided then and there that he was never going to let go of Kento again, ever. 


End file.
